


Strictly Professional

by misura



Category: Shark (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Het
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-28
Updated: 2011-08-28
Packaged: 2017-10-23 04:19:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Was there something you wanted, or were you just suddenly struck by a desire to waste my time?"</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Strictly Professional

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cakemage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cakemage/gifts).



"You know, you _could_ try wearing a sign," Stark said, sounding like a smug bastard who was about to hear that he had convinced twelve basically decent, rational people to let another smug bastard get away with murder.

She supposed she could walk on, pretend she hadn't heard him. Be petty, for lack of having anything to be smug right back at him about. "Stark."

Despise the actions, despise the man. Spare a few moments to admire the suit, which had probably cost five times what her own outfit had cost her. Hell, the _shirt_ of which had probably cost five times what her outfit had cost her.

"Madam defense attorney." She'd have liked to think of his smile as 'slimy'. Shark-like, perhaps, although there were too few shiny white teeth involved for that. "Nice speech. By which, of course, I mean the part where you were walking up and down the room and giving us all something nice to look at."

Not sleazy, exactly. Not seriously flirtatious either, although she thought highly enough of his intelligence that she assumed he knew there would be absolutely no point in something like that.

It wasn't as if he didn't realize the kind of leverage she could get in sleeping with him.

"Was there something you wanted, or were you just suddenly struck by a desire to waste my time?"

"Ouch. Not quite up to form today, are you?" Stark made the same wavy gesture he'd used when cheerfully informing the jury that he wouldn't trust his client to sell him a used car, let alone insurance. "My point was: nice view. Show a bit more leg, and I might go so far as to say: _great_ view. But, I'm sorry, were you actually saying anything meaningful in there? Because if so, I must have missed it."

Glaring at Stark never seemed to particularly bother him. Also, it gave her a headache. "Your client is a despicable lying, cheating scumbag who deserves to spend the rest of his miserable life in jail."

Stark spread his hands - _'sure, I might earn an incredible amount of money doing this, but in the end, I'm really just like ordinary people, trust me'_. "Hey, no argument there."

"We have evidence - " she started, but Stark's agreeability only went so far, of course.

"You have nothing," he said. "Your case blows, Jess, and we both know it. Why pretend? Hell, why go out there and embarrass yourself like that?"

On the one hand, she wasn't precisely optimistic about their chances of winning the case. On the other hand, if Stark was trying to hurt her feelings, he was (1) not as smart as his reputation and her office said he was and (2) not having as solid a case as he claimed.

"You were saying something about a sign, I believe?" Doubtlessly, it would be the punchline to some sort of joke at her expense. Possibly, it might be slightly funny. Hope sprung eternal.

"What?" She didn't believe for a moment he really had forgotten. "Oh, yeah. Instead of wasting everybody's time by acting like you've got something, why not just wear a sign saying 'fuck me'? Same message, less waste of time and effort."

" 'Fuck me'," she repeated, one eyebrow arched, tone cool.

"I love it when you talk dirty to me," Stark said. "I mean that in a strictly professional sense of the word, of course."

A second arched eyebrow.

"Within the context of the case, you're asking to be fucked. Big time. And, of course, I'm happy to oblige. Just doing what they're paying me the big bucks for. Although on a personal note - "

She'd have to go over evidence again, see if they'd missed anything. One last shot to turn things around. "Yes?"

"Love the skirt. You've got my number, right?"

"I believe I do," she said. If not on this case, alas, unless a miracle happened.


End file.
